Authors: Helen Phifer
The policeman who had looked a little bit like her father had taken Martha to one side and knelt down on the floor to speak to her, and she told him exactly what she had told everyone else. That she heard Joe crying down in the cellar and then he was gone. Everyone was told to stay where they were while the police went to search the cellar. There was a lot of muttering amongst the men about time being wasted but none of them wanted to disobey the officers, so they stayed where they were. They finally came back upstairs and agreed there was no sign of him.
‘The only place he could have fallen is down into that drainpipe. Was the iron cover across it when you went down there the first time to look for him, Mr Beckett?’
‘Yes, it was. It wasn’t quite on the hole but it was covering it. My son is nine years old and if he did fall into it he would be screaming blue murder for us to rescue him. There is no way if he did go down there that he would have been able to move the cover and then put it back across. It’s a two-man job; it is so heavy.’
‘I need some volunteers. Regardless of his strength, if the last place he was seen was in the cellar then we need to send someone down into that hole.’
‘I’ll do it. He is my son.’
‘No, sir, I think it’s best if you stay here with your wife.’
Davey stepped forward. ‘I will do it, and I’ve been down there once before, last year when there was a blockage.’
The policeman nodded his head in approval. ‘Thank you; we will help you and watch you to make sure that you’re safe and then we can pull you back out after you’ve checked it out.’
Davey left the room followed by the two policemen and Martha watched as her mother began to crumple in front of her eyes. Mary and Lucy both walked over to her. Taking an arm each, they led her out of the crowded dining room and down towards the kitchen and Martha ran behind them.
‘Should I tell the guests to leave, ma’am?’
‘No. As much as I don’t want them here, if they don’t find Joe down in that hole we will need them to help search the gardens. I don’t want any stone unturned.’
‘Very well, ma’am. Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘No, thank you, Mary. I think this is going to call for something much stronger than tea. Lucy, please will you get a bottle of sherry and pour me the biggest glass you can find.’
Eleanor looked at her daughter for the first time since Martha had told them she couldn’t find her brother and seemed to realise how upset she must be. She opened her arms and Martha ran to them. After clambering onto her knees, she buried her head in her mother’s chest and began to cry.
‘I’m so sorry we can’t find him. I don’t know what to do.’
‘Shh, Martha, come now. None of this is your fault. We’ll find him and when we do he will be in trouble for causing such a fuss.’
Martha felt her eyes getting heavy and before long she was drifting off to sleep and a place where Joe was still hiding in the attic waiting for her, and whatever it was that lived in the cellar hadn’t taken him away to eat him.
***
Davey led the way into the cellar followed by James Beckett, who had insisted on helping, and the two policemen – all of them with lamps burning brightly and illuminating the gloomy room. Which was no longer its usual tidy state because every box and piece of furniture had been pulled out and searched. James couldn’t tell them about the missing monster without Eleanor finding out that he’d disobeyed her wishes, and he didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was. If they didn’t find Joe soon he would tell her and the police, but for now it was far more important to locate his son than a stolen fairground exhibit.
Davey led them to the large drain in the far corner and put his lamp down. James did the same and they both took hold of one end and strained to lift the cover to one side. The policemen looked at each other and nodded. They knew that if the boy was down there, and the cover had been in place, then there was no way he had got down there on his own, which meant some foul play was afoot. The cover dropped to the floor with a heavy clang, narrowly missing Davey’s feet.
Davey walked over to the hole and waved his lamp around. It didn’t look any different to any other time he’d looked into it. He knew there was a tunnel that led out from under the house to the lake, but it wasn’t that big and he would have to slither along on his belly to check the whole length of it, which he was glad to do. He liked the lad and didn’t want any harm to come to him. The thing was that, if by some miracle Joe had managed to get down here and go along the tunnel, it would be highly dangerous. There were rats and a couple of times Davey had seen something much bigger than a rat, but it never stayed in the same place long enough for him to actually see what it was. It moved too fast.
The tunnel eventually led out into the lake and he hoped to God they wouldn’t find the boy’s body in the morning, all dead and floating around. It made him shiver just thinking about it. He sat on the edge of the hole and swung his legs down. After jumping down into the blackness he landed on his feet but felt his hand brush against something large and cold. He screamed for Mr Beckett to pass him the lamp and he did. There was some movement as whatever it was brushed against him, but when the light was shone down there it had gone.
‘What’s the matter, Davey? Why did you scream? What’s down there?’
‘Sorry, sir, it was a rat, a bloody great rat. I hate them things. They give me the shivers.’
‘Can you see anything? Can you see Joe?’
He knelt down, his hands shaking so much that the light swayed as it cast shadows. Now on his hands and knees, he ignored the thick, black gunge underneath him, which squelched under his weight. Scared to look into the tunnel but even more scared not to, he forced himself to shine the light down there and felt relieved there was nothing in there. No sign of whatever had just touched him or the boy. Davey wasn’t sure whether this was a good or bad thing. He would have liked to have found Joe covered in muck and too terrified to move in case one of the rodents bit him.
‘Nothing. The tunnel is empty, sir. Do you want me to crawl down and see if Master Joseph has gone down and got stuck?’
‘If you can, Davey – I know this is difficult for you but it’s a matter of life and death. If for some reason he’s in there and has hurt himself…’
Mr Beckett’s breath caught in the back of his throat and his eyes welled with tears he would not shed, not in front of strangers. Davey nodded and, although terrified of what he might encounter, he began to crawl into the tunnel and forced himself to think of nothing other than finding the boy. It was hard work. The floor was wet and filled with God knows what. It stunk something terrible and it was hard to breathe without inhaling the foul smell.
He did his best to crawl as far as he could where the tunnel branched off into two. The one that went to the left was much narrower and he was glad that he couldn’t fit down it because that was where the eye-watering smell was coming from. The other tunnel also narrowed and Davey knew that if Joe was down here he was so far down he was never coming back. The boy had no lamp with him and, although he was an adventurous lad, Davey didn’t think he would venture down here in the pitch black just to avoid getting caught playing hide-and-seek.
So he began to move backwards, his breathing laboured with the exertion. He had to stop and rest a minute. It was when he was perfectly still and resting that he heard the noise. It was coming from the much narrower tunnel and it struck the fear of God into him. It sounded like scratching and the clicking of claws, very big claws, and it was heading up the tunnel to meet him. Panic taking over, he began to move himself backwards as fast as he could until he felt his legs dangle over the lip of the tunnel, and with one final shove he pushed himself out of the tunnel and back into the hole where the policemen were leaning over, shining lamps onto him. He had never been so glad to see a copper in all his life, and he shook his head.
‘He’s not down here. Pull me out.’
They reached in and grabbed his arms and he felt himself yanked up just as something reached out of the tunnel to grab at his foot. He felt the air swoosh around it and he let out a scream. He clambered out of the hole as fast as he could and fell onto the floor in a sticky, smelly mess.
‘What’s the matter with you, man? Are you scared of your own shadow?’
‘No, sir, I just don’t like rats. Horrible creatures they are and I think there is a big one down there. We need to come back tomorrow and set some traps – try and catch it. We don’t want it coming up here.’
‘Is there any sign that Joe has been down there, Davey?’
‘None at all, sir – I’m really sorry. I was hoping he’d gone in and got scared and was waiting to be rescued, but the tunnel was empty as far as I could see, and I crawled along until it narrowed and isn’t big enough for anyone to get down.’
James stood up. ‘Right then. We need to start searching the gardens and boathouse. He may have gone outside and fallen. He could have broken an ankle or knocked himself out. We need to sort out search teams and send them to cover a section each.’
‘Very wise decision, Mr Beckett – you have a few volunteers upstairs. It’s a good job you didn’t send your guests home because we are going to need all the help we can get. How big are the grounds?’
‘Two acres, an acre of landscaped gardens and then there’s the wood to the back, which leads up to the main road. Davey, thank you for going down there; I know it wasn’t an easy task. Go and get yourself cleaned up and get a hot drink from Mary, and then will you help to search? You know the grounds better than anyone.’
‘Of course I will, sir; Master Joseph has a den in the woods. I would check there first. He uses it when he wants to play soldiers with his friends.’
‘Why didn’t you say something before? He could be in there now.’
‘Because it’s dark and cold, it’s been raining. He doesn’t use it in the winter. I asked him just yesterday how his den was holding up and he told me it had been leaking with all the rain and he hadn’t been out there for weeks. Asked me if I’d help him make it waterproof when the weather turned better. I didn’t think he would go out there in the dark.’
‘We need to check. Tell me exactly where it is.’
Davey, who was now shivering and feeling shaken at the thought of whatever it was down in that tunnel that had been coming after him, did his best to explain. James and the two policemen ran up the stone steps to go out and search for this den. Davey followed and then realised they hadn’t replaced the cover. Whatever it was could get up out of the hole. Terrified to go back on his own he ran over to it and strained to pull the metal cover, but he had this feeling that whatever was down there was waiting for him to leave and turn out the lights, and then it would be up here and they would all disappear. His arms aching and his knees creaking, he pulled and pulled until the cover was over the hole as best as he could do. It didn’t quite fit properly but it was good enough, and then he ran from the cellar and upstairs into the wonderful, light-filled hallway. He slammed the cellar door behind him, sliding the bolt across, and at that moment he knew in his heart that they could search for the rest of their lives for little Joe Beckett and they would never find him. Whatever it was down in the tunnel had taken him away for ever. He crossed himself, jumping when Mary spoke.
‘For the love of God, Davey, you smell like something the dog dragged in and you don’t look much better. Go and get washed and changed before you dare to set foot in my kitchen. Have they found Master Joe yet?’
He shook his head and tears filled his eyes. He lifted his damp sleeve to brush it against his face and wipe them away.
‘No, Mary, not yet.’
Before she asked him anything else he ran along to the narrow staircase used by the staff and up the stairs to the staff bathroom. After slamming the door shut and locking it, he looked into the mirror. His face had lines underneath his eyes that hadn’t been there this morning. He ran the water and stripped off his now ruined clothes. Stepping into the bath, he wanted nothing more than to stay in there and soak away the memories of that thing but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to tell Mr Beckett or the coppers what he’d heard in the tunnel. They would think he was going mad and then probably send him back down there until he’d crawled the entire length. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go back in that hole because he knew now that whatever it was had smelt him and would be waiting for him.
Davey had no idea how he knew this but he did. It was like a predator scenting its prey. If he went back down there it would be curtains for him and he was too selfish to die down there all alone. The best thing he could do was to go and help search the woods for Master Joe and hope they found him safe and well because he was far too scared to go down that drain and face whatever it was. It would be easier to push it away, forget about it and hope that somewhere inside his mind he was having a bit of a breakdown, for he would rather be a stark, raving lunatic than have to face a monster that dwelled in the drains and ate children.
Megan passed a plate of chicken curry to Henry and sat down opposite him at the table, which was just big enough for them both to eat their tea on.
‘So I’ve been thinking today, a lot.’
‘What about?’
‘I want to do it again. This time I want to make sure that we shave all their hair off, while they are watching. You know what I mean?’
Henry didn’t have a bloody clue what she meant but he nodded anyway. He didn’t answer her. She could wait. Talking about murder wasn’t his number-one subject when he was eating his tea. Yes, he had a hard stomach and no feelings or empathy for his victims, but he didn’t want to talk about it at mealtimes. There were some boundaries. Megan knew this. He’d told her several times and this was when she most annoyed him, disregarding his wishes when she should know better.
Lately she was getting on his nerves, not a lot but just a touch more each day. He knew what it was. He wanted her but they had only ever slept together a couple of times, and he hadn’t been pleased with himself for breaking his own rule, which had been not to get too personally involved. He had wanted their partnership to be a working one. Things got too messy when emotions and desire got in the way. Now she was becoming needy, relying on him to come up with ideas and plans. It was hard enough trying to plan what he was going to do when he finally had Annie without having to plan abductions and murders for her as well.